


Green Eyed Monster

by TAle_xistime



Category: The Blacklist (US TV)
Genre: Badass!Red, Badass!Ressler, Beating, Cuddles, F/M, Fist Fights, Fluff, Hurt!Red, Hurt!Ressler, Hurt/Comfort, Jealousy, Light Angst, Liz chooses Red over Donald, Lizzington - Freeform, Major Character Injury, POV Multiple, the boys beat the ever loving crap out of each other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-24
Updated: 2021-01-24
Packaged: 2021-03-16 06:35:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,867
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28952055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TAle_xistime/pseuds/TAle_xistime
Summary: A jealous Ressler stops by Red's safe house late, and is looking for a fight. Red brings it."Red's frightening smile grew immeasurably bigger as he locked eyes with Ressler and tilted his head. Letting the fair amount of insanity he had accrued over the years leak into his emerald green eyes. His voice dropped to the menacing tone he reserved for the people he was more than likely about to kill, or at least for those he wanted to think he was going to kill.“But lucky enough for you Boy Scout, Green Eyed Monster fits me just fine.”'
Relationships: Elizabeth Keen/Raymond Reddington
Comments: 14
Kudos: 66





	1. 1.

**Author's Note:**

> This work is for moneypowxrglory over on tumblr, who gave me this idea. Thanks everyone for who comments and kudos, emphasis on the later lol. Seriously your guys comments keep me going.
> 
> This doesn't really have a timeline, just for the simple fact that the show is not my canon so I can't really timeline it. 
> 
> I'm posting this all at once to salve the wound that the crazy ass producers left us with on Friday. Seriously that show is more wack than most of the fanfic I dig up. The only canon I have is the one we writers here create.
> 
> Because at least it actually has a plot and Liz isn't a flip floppy psycho. That and us writers actually care about what we produce. But I rant about that more on my tumblr tale-xistime. (shameless self promo. you guys should go check out my lizzington blog there.)
> 
> I love you all please leave comments and kudos if you want to help me stay motivated with the fics. I have ideas and the fics will keep coming as long as I can stay motivated. And those comments really help. A lot.
> 
> But without further ado...
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own the Blacklist (If I did it would be so much different and y'all wouldn't even know who 'The Johns' were...) or its characters. Though I do own the version of the characters that actually make sense. Or at least I hope they do. Heh.

It was the last straw.

Ressler watched as Reddington strut out of the War room, his head held high, dress jacket slug casually over his shoulder, fedora lightly tapping against his thigh. A self satisfied smirk on his face as he gave a smug nod to Donald while he passed him.

Begging Ressler to do something to stop him-

Ress could only watch helplessly as Reddington continued walking. 

He tricked them again.

Withholding essential information as he used the FBI to find a 186 million dollar painting. Using the government to do his bidding.

And there wasn’t a damn thing to do about it. Reddington knew that.

They had their Blacklister, a man called The Painter, that stole art and made forgeries of original paintings, selling all of the copies of a painting as originals and making trillions of dollars in the process.

At that moment Donald Ressler hated Raymond Reddington more than anyone else in the world. He could never win. The man bested him for five years on the run, bested him still at work, and bested him with Liz.

She turned down all his advances, basically friend zoning him, and the reason for that being Reddington. Even if Liz couldn’t even realize herself that the reason she turned down every advance was her growing feelings for Reddington. Everyone could acknowledge it but her.

It was obvious to everyone. 

They always seemed so natural with each other, mutually pining for the other, all the while too scared to make the first move themselves.

They just wouldn’t ever stop staring at each other, or touching each other during undercover Op’s. They made such a natural couple, laughing at the others jokes and staring at the others lips.

It was sickening.

Samar had started a bet, everyone betting on who they thought would make the first move. The leader as of now was Liz. 

What did Reddington have that he didn’t? Donald was younger, not a killer, not a wanted criminal, not a smug bastard that took pleasure from pissing off everyone around him. It just didn’t add up. Was it because of his money? No, that wasn’t right either.

Why couldn’t she just notice him? What did he have to do to get her to look at him like that? Like how she was looking at Reddington right now.

She was staring at him, raking her eye up and down his suit clad figure. Reddington turned, in the yellow elevator, facing Liz as the doors began to slowly close.

They both just stared, analyzing the other openly for a second. Reddington's brow furrowed as he realized that Liz was leering at him. Liz blushed and looked away quickly, leaving Reddington decidedly confused.

How was it that he still didn’t understand that she liked him back-

How reminiscent of highschool. Ressler’s jaw set, and he could feel the pressure building in him.

Reddington had everything, worst of all being Liz’s attention. He didn’t deserve her. 

After all the horrible things Raymond Reddington had done he still had everything Ressler wanted. Donald had done everything right, followed the law, done his job and done it excellently. 

And everything was still so unjust. Well now Donald was done playing by the rules. 

\------------------------------------------------

Red sat in his chair trying to read. It was no use however.

His mind was reeling.

He didn’t know what to do about her anymore.

She kept staring, but she couldn’t possibly have feelings for him, could she?

How had it been since he had accepted that his love would go unreciprocated? Long enough that he had grown to accept it.

He didn’t want to put her in any more danger because of him. It made it easier that way, if he was caught or killed, or had to suddenly disappear he could rest easy knowing that his absence wouldn’t hurt her.

Only him. As it should be.

His concentration was broken by a sharp knock on the door. His brow furrowed as he looked at his watch. It was one in the morning.

Much too late for any associates to show up unannounced, and Dembe had already gone to visit his daughter and grandbaby in Fairfax for the weekend.

He stood, barefoot in his socks, dress shirt half tucked and vest discarded on his bed. Grabbing his gun he shoved it in the back of his pants. He padded across the safehouse, smoothing his shirt as he went.

He stood silently behind the door, waiting to see if the knock would come again before opening the door. 

It did, accompanied with a familiar voice.

“Reddington! I know you’re in there!” 

Donald.

Strange, he wouldn’t need anything at this hour or he simply would have called Dembe or asked Lizzie to relay a message.

Especially the later.

Donald loved to be the center of Lizzie’s attention. He obviously had feelings for her. Red didn’t understand why Lizzie kept turning Donlad’s advances down. Donald would be perfect for her.

Stable, supportive, caring, protective. Donald was a good man as much as Red loathed his incompetence. He could be a good partner for her. Everything Red could never hope to give her would be freely available with Agent Ressler. He just wanted her to be happy.

Red wished that Lizzie would at least go out on a date with Ressler, maybe then Red could finally stop hoping. Stop wishing. 

He unlocked the deadbolt, hand setting his gun on the counter.

There was no reason to shoot the FBI’s poster child. Harold might get upset at the mess.

He stood in his doorway, leaning against the doorframe, and pushed his black framed glasses up his nose, having already taken out his contacts earlier that night. Exuding all the composure he could at this odd situation.

Determined to stay in character. Cocky, deadly, not to be trifled with. It was one of the only ways he could keep his foothold at the FBI. 

“Agent Ressler to what pleasure do I owe this studious waste of my time?”

His deadpan face and tone seemed to do nothing to Donald.

Cooper's boy scout stood fuming, as angry as Reddington could remember seeing him. Donald was in casual clothes, a heavy coat covering most of his figure.

He most definitely was not here on business. This should be interesting. 

“I’m tired of this Reddington.” Venom saturated his tone, dripping off his words. “The dance, you always winning. Enough is enough. We need to talk.”

Red was slightly shocked at Donald’s audacity as he pushed Red aside, shoving Red’s shoulder into the door, as he entered the safehouse.

Ressler immediately grabbed the Beretta off the counter and emptied the clip, tossing the gun lightly to the couch across the room and then sliding the clip to the very end of the counter.

Red felt the tone shift in the room, and the uneasy feeling he got whenever he was caught off guard bloomed in his gut. He attempted to regain control, replacing his cool mask. 

“Donald I don’t know what makes you think you can walk up to me at one in the morning and push your way into my safehouse-”

“No!” Donald hissed, cornering Red against the door. “You still don’t get it do you, you smug bastard? How she looks at you even though you’re just an asshole! When you're a murderer! Do you even care?! You waltz right into the FBI and making them do your bidding, the government working for a worthless piece of trash like you! You kill endless amounts of people and no one can do a damn thing about it! Well I’m tired of it! I’m done!”

Red stepped forward, regaining ground, reasserting himself.

Donald was taller and younger but Red wasn’t intimidated. He was an expert in keeping his stamina while he was in pain, and still remembered his Navy training very well.

He had continued boxing after he left the Navy, sparring with Dembe who was easily taller than Donald. Red knew how to hold his own. Nothing scared him anymore.

Especially not a hotheaded FBI agent.


	2. 2.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We go from zero to a hundred real fast here folks. Please keep arms and legs inside the car at all times. Thanks and enjoy the ride.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: The characters and show is not mine, and I make no money off these stories.

Reddington continued stepping forward as he talked, eyes locked unblinkingly with Resslers. He worked hard to keep his voice even, cold and unfeeling. Not allowing anger to bubble fully to the surface. Always in control of what he let show through his demeanor.

Only allowing a miniscule amount of icy wrath to leak through his intimidating timbre.

He knew it was unreasonable to allow himself to feel insulted by Donald Ressler, so he tried his best to ignore that notion. 

“What is it that you are talking about, Agent Ressler? And please, continue to insult me. The last time that happened the guy in your position died when I suffocated him with that belt over there.” His eyes flicked up to a brown leather belt hanging over a chair in a far corner of the kitchen. His voice lowered dangerously as he finished his sentence.

He could see the fear pass over Donald as Reddington un-cornered himself, complete dangerous calm, reclaiming his space. Red took immense satisfaction from anxiety radiating off of the man in front of him.

Donalds Adam's apple bobbed as he gulped, stepping up to Reddington, standing over the slightly shorter man. Stopping Red’s march forward, stopping him from un-cornering himself. Doing his best to stand his ground. 

Donald growled as he spoke. “I’m talking about you playing everyone, and using the government to expand your own empire. I’m done with your games, and I’m not scared of you.” A sly smile made its way to Red’s face as he caught an inconsistency, the pieces coming together. 

“Uh, oh. Donald I think you just slipped on another banana peel. You mentioned a she, and then promptly covered your tracks.” Red searched Resslers face as he backed Ressler against a bookshelf, using the same handless entrapment Donald had done to Red only minutes before. 

Red knew he had hit a cord.

Ressler had slipped during his rant, and then hoped Reddington wouldn’t notice. He scolded himself for tripping up, of course Reddington would notice that.

Donald had promised himself to keep Liz out of this, but he couldn’t.

Not when his jealousy was the main reason for his hasty decision to confront one of the most dangerous men in the world, unarmed.

But despite the fear that permeated through Donald, he remained confident that Reddington would not kill him. Not when he would have to leave Elizabeth, not when he would have to risk his position as a criminal informant.

Donald would wipe that smug look off the bastard's face, and maybe after he let off some much needed pressure and leave Reddington bloody on his own floor, he could somehow get Liz to look his way, so he could admit his feelings to her.

He would let himself go, just this once, after he had been pushed too far. Donald could take this one chance to vent his frustration, to pour his hatred into a man that had pushed him too far, taken too much from him, and led him in a wild goose chase for 5 years of his life.

Donald wouldn’t take it too far, Reddington couldn’t kill him, and Donald was confident that he could take whatever the shorter, older man could bring.

This would be worth it.

Red knew the only woman this could be about, the only woman the entire task force had made rumors about, the only woman that Red had dinner with every Saturday after going through files together on that weeks’ blacklister, the only woman that made Red feel alive. 

Raymond grew serious. 

“Is this ‘she’ Lizzie? Are we talking about Elizabeth? Are you jealous Lizzie has turned you down, jealous that she notices me but not you?”

Red stood straight faced as he examined Donald. He watched as Donalds posture grew defensive and his face turned red. Raymond could feel as pride grew in him, it didn’t make sense, he knew that. Lizzie wasn’t his, and he knew that just because she looked at him didn’t mean that she wanted a relationship with him. But he still felt, giddy. A sly smile spread across his face, and his tongue slid around the inside of his mouth.

“You didn’t come here because you are tired of me taking advantage of the task force Donald. That’s not the main reason, is it? You came here to confront me about Lizzie, hoping to beat me up and be seen as the bigger man. Hoping she would notice you and forget about me if you knocked me hard enough. You took my gun out of the situation, and you are confident you can take me.” 

Donald stood, the pressure building inside him. He clenched his fist as he tried desperately to not just strike Reddington right then and there. 

Red was hysterical, bent over laughing. This could prove to be a gas. 

Donald growled violently, ready to snap. Not exactly sure what he was going to say, but just needing to have the last word. 

“Reddington you don’t know-” 

Red gained control of himself and cut Ressler off, immensely enjoying this. He spoke calmly and with amusement as he began to casually roll up his dress shirt sleeves. 

“You know Donald, it's a good thing those are baby blues, because green just isn’t your color. The whole green eyed monster thing just doesn't fit you.”

Reddington gave a brief pausing, carefully folding up his reading glasses and placing them lightly on the counter. He heard as Donald gulped again, swallowing his fear, unsettled by Red’s level casualty about everything.

Donald would not let his bravery cease just in the face of some intimidation tactic. But somewhere in the very back of his mind Donald was beginning to doubt confronting Reddington, as much of an advantage Ressler was sure he would have in a fight.

Red's frightening smile grew immeasurably bigger as he locked eyes with Ressler and tilted his head. Letting the fair amount of insanity he had accrued over the years leak into his emerald green eyes. His voice dropped to the menacing tone he reserved for the people he was more than likely about to kill, or at least for those he wanted to think he was going to kill.

“But lucky enough for you Boy Scout, Green Eyed Monster fits me just fine.” 

The doubt was no longer only in the back of Ressler’s mind. He had to keep his bravado up, or Red would shake him to his core. 

“You can’t kill me, and as I’ve said before, I’m not scared of you Reddington. I can take you.” Donald snarled. 

“Agent Ressler! I’m proud of you. It would seem you are indeed smart enough to use common sense! Although I do wonder where that wonderful brain of yours was when I stole that painting earlier today. But alas you are correct in your deduction that I won’t kill you. I wouldn’t endanger my relationship with Lizzie that way. However, just because I won't kill you, doesn’t mean I won't make you wish I did. This may have just been your stupidest decision yet Agent Ressler. You have seemed to forget that I am Navally trained. You only have Quantico on your belt. Combine that with your youth and you came to the conclusion that as long as you kept my gun away no serious harm would befall you. That’s an interesting hypothesis. Would you like to test it?” Red tilted his head, a feigned look of kindness on his face. 

“I’ll tell you what I’d like to do Reddington, I’d like to tear you apart and rid the earth of your filth. You deserve to be chained up in some hole somewhere. Not living the high life with the FBI’s protection.” Ressler spat.

Red waited. Donald was close, almost there. He had to push Ressler over the edge, Donald had to throw the first punch. That would be the green light to let Red have some fun with the imbecile standing in his temporary home. That way he would be covered no matter what happened. He could convince anyone he needed it was self defense. As much of a false sounding story it was. No one would be able to prove any different. Cooper and his minions wouldn’t be able to do a damn thing about it.

It wouldn’t need to be mentioned that he antagonized Ress. Red’s smirk grew wider, adrenaline now fully coating the inside of his body. 

“Well then Donald if I deserve to be chained up in some hole as you say, and I do agree with you, it’s too bad you were and still are too much of a dumb-ass to catch me. Honestly Donald I gave you five years, how thick can you be? All your problems are self inflicted Agent Ressler, if you had only grown a brain and done your damn job all those years ago you wouldn’t find yourself here now would you? Although you still wouldn’t have a chance with Elizabeth, she’s smart enough to know a dud when she sees one. How bad does it sting to know that you won’t be taking a trip in her jeans anytime soon Donald? You see other than your incompetence that seems to be the main difference between us, I’ve had a woman recently, to remain unnamed. But by the looks of you, you haven’t been so lucky as to score.” He pulled at any weakness or insecurity he saw from Donald, hoping it would be enough to light his fuse, enough to get him to swing. 

Red let the assumption of who the unnamed, fake woman he claimed to have recently slept with hang in the air. Letting Ressler take the hint.

Even if it was a bold face lie. He hadn’t dared to make a move with Lizzie, let alone get intimate with her, and he hadn’t been able to even look at any woman other than Elizabeth for almost a year now.

His suggestion should be inferable, especially considering Red hadn’t left D.C in over a month now. 

As he watched the gears turn in Resslers head, as he pieced together the little Easter egg Red had left for him, he knew it was enough. Donald clenched his fist and slightly stepped back. Raymond readied himself, every muscle in his body a tightly wound spring. He slid his right foot behind his left. Every move was mapped out in his head. Donald screamed in Red’s face as he cocked his right fist and stepped back, ready for the punch. 

“You son of a-”  
Donald swung.

Red pivoted, moving just a little too slowly as he moved out to the side. Resslers fist just barely nicked Red’s left jaw, and pain sprouted there.

Red moved to the side, grimacing in pain as he waited for an opening on Donald's side.

He grabbed Donalds wrist, and then upper cutted into the man's side, connecting with his kidney.

Ressler gasped, all the air leaving his lungs as he doubled over, tears gathering in his eyes. 

Red let go and stepped back once again, lightly touching his hand to his pained jaw as he spoke, sounding winded. 

“Do they have a hand to hand combat portion in Quantico? You didn’t pass, did you Donald?” With that Donald straightened up, and lunged at Reddington, teeth bared. 

Red didn’t see him coming, a stupid mistake he chided himself for. His ego was too large, something that would soon be rectified. 

Ressler began pummeling Raymond. Fueled by anger, hatred, and jealousy, Donalds fists flew on their own accord. He fought through the excruciating pain in his side, as he continued to draw shaky breaths during his assault.

Reds face was on fire. A snap near his cheek caused a sharp stabbing throb, and Red was certain some bone in his face was just broken. He let out a strangled yelp as his face shifted, the sudden stabbing pain taking his breath. Bitter, metallic liquid spread over his taste buds after only a few moments. 

Red tried to block Ress, but to little avail. Wherever his forearms moved to protect, another spot opened up. Ressler was backing Red up into the corner and in the back of his mind, Red knew he had stand his ground before he was pinned to the kitchen counter.

This wasn’t the first time he had been over his head, and it surely wouldn’t be the last. It also wasn’t the first time he had to defend himself in excruciating pain. The most important thing to keep in mind being to ignore the pain and stay calm. Keep a clear and cool head. Waiting for a clear moment when the assault was temporarily paused, he kicked Ressler’s shin.

Taking the moment of distraction Red started punching. Breathing out with each pump of his arm. His first punch was out of form, another stupid mistake made due to the haste in which he had to act to gain the upper hand. The pain wasn’t immediate, but it was there, dully sweeping across his ring finger near his knuckles. He simply corrected his form, tucking his likely fractured finger in his fist to protect it. More than six well placed shots later and he swept Resslers feet. Leaving him falling, hard, to the tile floor.

Ressler was in about as much pain as he could ever remember being in, and his nose had made a sickening sound around the last punch Reddington had taken before leaving him sprawled on the floor. It felt like a hot knife sliding up his nostrils. 

He noticed it was hard to draw in his breath, crimson liquid blocking the air he so desperately needed. He was now woozy, and his ears were ringing as if he were about to faint. He couldn’t let that happen. He would not let himself pass out, until he had no choice but to give in. 

Blood spilled over his lips, and poured out of his nose. His left eye was already swollen shut.

He yelped as his back collided with the floor, a loud groan escaping his throat. He laid reeling as Reddington just stood, waiting for Ressler to make a move. Determined still, he planted his hands to the ground and pushed himself up, hissing in pain, ignoring the black void gathering around the edges of his vision. 

He was on his knees about to stand, shaking in exertion. 

Only for a foot to come up from the ground, kicking him in the ribs. Another sharp crack. Donald fell back to the earth in a heap, and didn’t get back up. The fainting spell he was trying so hard to keep at bay, closing in at last.


	3. 3.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's time for a deep dive into some Liz y'all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: The characters and show is not mine, and I make no money off these stories.

Every muscle in Red’s body screamed in pain, as he stood above an unconscious Ressler.

He could feel the blood dripping off his chin, staining the carpet below him. His mouth was quickly filling with blood, accompanied by a stinging pain where he bit his tongue, somewhere around the first punch Ressler delivered.

He couldn’t see out of his right eye, and a cut above his left was causing blood to somewhat obscure his left. He was lightheaded, and most of the adrenaline was starting to drain from his body.

The pain came back as double, and he could finally feel the break in his finger.

He was going to pass out. He needed to call Dembe. And Donald also needed some assistance.

He needed one other person to make sure Agent Ressler was taken care of. Only one person came to mind. He needed to call Lizzie. She could take Donald to the emergency room. She was the best option logically.

He knew how bad of an idea that truly was, Elizabeth seeing a battered Ressler was not going to help her change her mind in seeing him as anything more than a monster.

But he didn’t really have a choice.

Resslers nose was more than likely broken, and considering he was currently unconscious there was no time to wait for an associate that would take longer to get here.

Dembe and Lizzie were the closest.

He swayed in place leaning against the couch for support. His knees were shaking, and threatening to give out underneath him. 

He picked his way to his latest burner phone, and collapsed down on the sofa, just barely missing the low standing coffee table where the burner sat.

He suppressed a growl as his broken finger brushed against the leather, pain sprouting up hand and extending to his arm.

Dembe picked up on the third ring.   
“Raymond what-“

Red's mouth was almost swollen shut, and talking made every fiber of his being vibrate with agonizing torment. He could only stand to open one side of his mouth, and as a result his speech was slurred. He spoke quickly through gritted teeth, anxious to stop the pain that came as a result of speaking.

“Dembe I need you to come to the safe house I’m fine I just need you to come. Agent Ressler is on the floor unconscious. Bring a doctor.” Dembe knew better than to ask questions, instead jumping out of bed.

“I’m on my way Ray.”

Red moaned again as he hung up the phone, placing his next call to Lizzie. He leaned his head back against the couch and squoze his eyes tightly shut.

He felt nauseous, and the room was spinning. Both due to his broken bones, and the thought of what Elizabeth would say to him when she saw Ressler on the floor. 

“Red what could you possibly need at two in the morn-”

He cut her off, knowing he might not have time to tell her everything he needed to if he let her continue.

He tried his best to sound like he wasn’t about to pass out, the symptoms of shock creeping in.

He ultimately failed. Liz noticed almost immediately that something was seriously wrong.

“Lizzie listen closely and don’t ask questions until you get here. I need you to come to my Alexandria flat. Ressler is on the floor with a broken nose. Dembe is on his way with a doctor too. I’m fine just come as quickly as you can. I wouldn’t disturb you if it wasn’t my only option.”

Liz sat in the dark absorbing all Red had just told her. He sounded like he was in pain and she highly doubted he was fine. She jumped out of bed to grab a sweatshirt and head out the door. 

“I’m on my way Red just stay where you are.” He hung up without another word as she caught the first half of a whimper coming from the other line when his face spasmed again.

Concern filled her as she started her car, breaking just about every speed limit to get to him.

All signs of her angry defense against him gone. She knew deep down she only kept her misdirected anger at him so she had some kind of a defense against her growing feelings toward him. She was scared to love him, though she also desperately wanted to. She saw he was hurting, he was haunted by something.

Maybe whatever it was that caused him to be pushed into this life. Because she was sure he hadn’t chosen it himself. She was also confident that he hadn’t left his family, and more than once she had wondered if he had experienced some kind of loss, some trauma.

He hid it well, but the psychologist in her had a suspicion he was traumatized in some way. And not by the various situations he found himself in over the years building his empire, but by something that happened before he became a fugitive. 

After Tom, and those years of her life that were just a lie, she was skeptical to open up again. Especially to another criminal. Though in the back of her mind she knew that Red was nothing like Tom. He was kind, protective, truthful, and amazing.

Her angry buffer was the only barrier keeping her safe from opening up again. And Red had his own barriers as well. Perhaps two times bigger than hers.

He was a mystery, a puzzle she so desperately wanted to solve.  
She wanted him. She had dreams about him. And she knew in her heart that he wanted her too.

She wasn’t blind to the looks he cast her way, or the various innuendos he threw at her. She was aware of every little touch, every move he made.

In truth, she couldn’t think about any other man when he was on her mind. And he was always on her mind. As much as she liked Ressler as a friend, a co-worker, she could never think about him romantically. It broke her heart to turn him down time after time, but she knew it wouldn’t be fair to enter into a relationship with Donald when the only person she could think about was Red. 

She wished Red would just open up to her, that she could get to know the man behind the mask.

But she knew it was unfair to ask that of him when she herself was doing the same thing. They were stuck in lockstep.

She couldn’t open up to him without really knowing him, and she didn’t know how to convince him to trust her with the more vulnerable side of him, the man behind the mask. He wasn’t the monster she liked to make him out to be. He wasn’t as far gone as he himself would like to believe.

She had tried to ignore her feelings, tried to wait for him to make the first move, to open up.

Nothing had worked.

She knew what she had to do, she knew it would have to be her. She had to make the first move. She knew she had to change tactics. To try and show she cared, to try and show him he could trust her with his beautifully damaged heart.

To repair the damage her misplaced anger had made. But she was afraid.

She had known what she had to do for some time, been aware of what she must do to repent for quite awhile. She had stuffed the notion in the very back of her mind, trying to ignore it.

But racing to his house to check and make sure he was ok, to hear the strongest man she had ever known whimper in pain, her fear for him, of losing him, made her realize how stubbornly stupid that was.

She could lose him at any time. And he would die unaware that she didn’t hate him, but that the opposite was indeed true. That she was fighting to tame feelings of love and lust for him. Not hatred and anger.

It wasn’t until that moment that she gathered her courage, to cross the indefinitely thin line that just barely separated love and hate. She would barricade her feelings no more. 

She couldn’t bear her heart to him yet, but she could try and convince him that he was safe with her. That she wouldn’t break him. That she wanted to know him. The real him. 

Maybe after she got to really know him, she could admit that she carried something resembling love for him. Maybe she could admit then that she craved him. That she had dreams of him that left her wanting to explore every inch of his body.

It was a step forward.


	4. 4.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> To the Fluff!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: Still none of it is mine, and still no mula comes to me. Though you all SHOULD pay me in comments. Heh.

Liz didn’t know what to expect while picking the lock on Red’s door, but she could hear a sharp groan come from the other side of the door.

Panic rose in her like bile as she swung the door open, gun drawn and safety off. She walked away from the hall, the kitchen on her right.

She didn’t know to expect where she peered around the corner, but it wasn’t an unconscious Ressler laying on the floor, blood pooling around his head. She went to kneel by his side, thinking he might have been shot or dead.

It wasn’t until she rounded his prone figure that she saw that all the blood was coming from what appeared to be a broken nose. He was breathing, his chest rising and falling at regular intervals. 

She heard a deep and husky moan come from behind her.

Spinning around, she saw Red. He sat holding his fingers in one hand a grimace on his face.

He was bleeding just as much as Donald. There were cuts all over his face and his right hand looked purple and grotesque. Panic caught in her throat as lunged for him.

“Red?” She spoke softly, hands ghosting over his face and shoulder. He replied with another groan, eyes closed and hunched over. Refusing to look at her.

When he spoke his voice was filled with pain. His slacked face made it so he could only speak through one side of his mouth and she suspected a bone was broken somewhere in his face.

“Get the first aid kit in my closet please Lizzie.” His voice was worn and rough, like it might snap and go quiet at any minute.

“Red, what happened? I don’t- “ He spoke again, cutting her off, but this time with frustration evident.   
“I’m going to set my finger and I need you to splint it after I put it in place.” Liz was gaping, dumbstruck.

“Red you are not going to set your own finger, you need a doctor or-”

She watched in horror as he shut his eyes and took a deep breath, then popped his finger back in place when he exhaled.

He whimpered again, his breath shaking. His eyes shut in agony as he spoke again, voice quieter and shaking. She had never heard him sound like he was in this much pain before. 

It terrified her. 

She couldn’t believe he hadn’t passed out yet, though as the color drained from his face she imagined he must be close.

“G-go.” He splurted it meekly, around the blood filling his mouth, but still carried the weight of a command.

She stood and ran off, searching for the kit.

He flopped back down on the couch and tried to focus on his breathing, though he moaned on every exhale.

She came back with the kit, and carefully splinted his finger.

He was stretched across the couch now, letting her patch him up. She spoke softer now, genuine concern painted across her features. 

“What happened?”  
He didn’t look up to her, still focusing on his ragged breathing, trying to fight off the pain.   
“Donald came over and we fought. He was angry with me for tricking the task force again.”

She knitted her eyebrows together again, sitting on the edge of the couch in front of his stomach as he laid as still as possible. Any movement causing agony to rip through him.

“Why would Ressler come to beat you up over something he has only been minorly annoyed with for years now? Tell me the truth Red.”

She knew he was lying. Or at least not telling her the entire truth. It didn’t add up. Red wouldn’t get angry enough to beat Donald as badly as he did just based off of a grudge Donald held for misleading the task force.

Red closed his eyes and sighed through his teeth again. He saw the wheels turning in Lizzies head, and knew she was going to figure it out. He was confident of that. But when she did, which side would she take? Surely it would be Resslers.

Liz moved through one possibility after another in his head, before one started to click into place. She watched Red’s face carefully as she voiced her winding thoughts aloud.

“Wait, when I turned Ressler down for lunch yesterday, he seemed more upset than usual. He mumbled something I think about you. Something along the lines of ‘Reddington.’ He said it with a lot of venom. And Red, I know you wouldn’t fight Ressler unless it was self defence, or in the service of someone else. And if it was just self defense I don’t think that you would get angry enough to beat on him. You wouldn’t drag things out and turn it into a fistfight. You would get your gun and it would be over with. So, he came because of me, didn’t he Red? He was jealous of the time you spend with me, or whatever this relationship we have.”

She watched as Red turned his head slightly away from her, grimacing both from her realization and the pain caused by the movement. She watched him and absentmindedly nodded her head. Humming in agreeal with her conclusion.

Red prepared himself for the battery of questions and accusations, only, they didn’t come. 

Taking Red’s body language as a yes, she knew she had hit the nail on the head. 

“Ok then.” She moved to attend to Donald, while waiting for the doctor and Dembe to arrive.

It wasn’t soon after that that the door swung open, Dembe stalking into the flat, gun drawn. Liz stepped carefully around the corner, hands up. 

“It’s ok Dembe. Resslers over here and he has a-” Red tuned out the noise. 

Focusing on his breathing to keep the black at the edges of his vision from closing in.

He was honestly shocked that Lizzie hadn’t yelled at him. She had seemed kind, and cared for him before attending Ressler. Though really considering he was unconscious it should have been the other way around.

He watched silently as the doctor addressed Donald, checking to see if he was fit to be driven to the hospital. He spoke, suggesting that Ressler had a concussion and that it would be wise to get him to a hospital as quickly as possible.

Dembe, Liz and the doctor stood, looking around at one another. It was expected that Liz would take him but for whatever reason she didn’t make the move to leave.

She looked down at her shoes for sometime, as if thinking of what to say.

Dembe began gathering up a waking Donald, who made little grunts as Dembe hauled him up to assist him in making it to Liz’s car.

Liz stopped Dembe as he started to make his way to the door, one arm around Donalds waist propping him against his body. He stopped as Liz began speaking.

“Wait, Dembe, I want to stay with Red.” Dembe turned, eyebrows furrowed.

He was genuinely shocked at Liz’s concern for Raymond. It also made him happy for his brother. They might finally be ready to take a step forward. Raymond loved Liz, and had for a while. Liz seemed to as well, though she was more adept at burying the notion. Well maybe until now.

He gave her a small smile. 

“Help me get Agent Ressler to the car.”

\------------------------------------------------

When Liz returned to the flat by herself, she was anxious to see how Red was.

She didn’t bother knocking, instead just returning to the living room.

Only to find no one there.

She panicked for a second, before hearing a sharp grunt accompanied by the doctor making a tsk-ing sound. She followed the noise to a bedroom, Red’s bedroom.

He was laying on the bed, his feet elevated. He laid on top of the sheets, trying his best to keep still.

Several of his dress shirt’s buttons were undone, blond hairs catching the room's dim lighting.

She stood leaning against the door frame watching as the doctor placed a cream on his cheek. The blood was cleaned off his face, cuts bandaged and sutured.

“Raymond,” The doctor paused, shaking his head in a mix of astonishment, fondness, and amusement. He cracked a smile, chuckling and still shaking his head. “Your tolerance for pain never seizes to amaze me friend. Though I still maintain that you are indeed a fool.”

Red cracked a small, exhausted, smile of his own. The men seemed to know each other well. The doctor continued. 

“By the pain you must be in due to that fractured cheekbone of yours, which luckily doesn’t need set, the cuts and bruises all over your upper body and that boxers break in your finger, well it’s a damn miracle that you didn’t go into shock or get knocked out yourself Red. That being said, the cheekbone will heal by itself, though the pain that will be present when you aren’t doped up won’t be pleasant for quite a while. About six weeks for that one to heal. You have this cream to put on it that helps to numb and keep it clean, these pain pills, and this antibiotic I want you to stay on until it’s completely healed.”

He pointed to each of the medications on the nightstand in turn.

“Put that cream on your finger and the cuts as well. It’s multi-use. You know the deal for breaks, try not to overexert yourself, rest, and don’t overuse your face or hand. You are good to eat and talk, just take it easy. I want you to stay in bed for a week at least Ray and I will be sure to tell Dembe not to let you leave if you start fighting me on this.”

The doctor patted Red’s shoulder as he grabbed his bag, turning to leave. Red looked very upset at the prospect of having to rest for a week, already planning out how to get around it. He was even more upset when the doctor called over his shoulder.

“Oh, and Ray? No flying for three weeks.”

He left without another word, leaving only Liz and a disgruntled Red. She stepped in the room, and Red looked shocked to see her.

The color was slowly coming back to his face, and he seemed more relaxed, the pain pills taking effect. The simple fact that looking over to her and speaking didn’t cause him to grimace or groan was simple proof of that.

“Hey.” He said it casually, not knowing what was going on in her head. She looked up from her lap, locking eyes with him. 

“Don’t ever do that again.” She turned his own words around on him, and she could tell he didn’t understand. So she elaborated.

“Feel you have to do something violent or dangerous to prove something. You have nothing to prove. Not to me, and certainly not to him.” He nodded his head and looked away as she sat in a lounge chair beside his bed. She spoke again, quieter this time. 

“I’m sorry.” He looked back at her.  
“For what?” She took his hand, and stroked the back of it with her thumb the way he did whenever he comforted her.

“For not being truthful with myself. About you.” His concern deepend, not knowing where this conversation was going. 

“I know that you have feelings for me.” She looked up at him, eyes locking. She searched his face, finding the truth of her words there. 

“Yes.” He answered simply.

Knowing that that was the only fundamental truth he had. That he loved her. Would do anything for her.

She quieted again, deep in thought.

She dropped her head, laying it on his stomach. Examining their interlocked hands.

He tensed under her sudden movement, unused to any sign of affection from her. He relaxed quickly though, and started to stroke her hair with his other hand. Fascinated with the feel of it slipping through his fingers. For all he knew he was in shock, and this was only a fever dream. She moved her head around, moving her gaze from their hands to his face.

She was surprised by how good it felt to finally touch him, to have him touch her. His hand that was stroking her hair suddenly cupped her cheek, still not sure if he was really experiencing what he had waited for, for so long.

He searched her face, trying to decipher what her feelings were. His search was cut short though, as she sat up.

He tried to stop the look of disappointment that spread across his face, quickly burying any sign of the blow that was just dealt to him.

He should have known better. Why would she choose him?

She was probably going to leave him now, let him wallow in his misery and anguish knowing that she would never be his, that she could never begin to love-

“Scoot over.”

He looked up, shocked to see her still in the room. He tried to find his voice over the overwhelming sound of his hope flooding back. But certainly he hadn’t heard her correctly-

“Wha-” She spoke again, kicking off her shoes and sitting on the edge of the bed. 

“Scoot over and get in the covers Red. Are you comfortable sleeping in those clothes? You heard the doctor, you need rest.”

He was shell shocked, but finally found enough strength to scoot over and slide into the bed. She followed, covering herself in turn. They laid in the dark, in silence for a long while.

Red kept his hands to himself, knowing he wouldn’t be the one to cross that line.

After a few tense minutes she rolled over, throwing her hands lightly around his frame. She pressed his back into her chest, holding his heat to her. He was thankfully that his shirt was thick enough to cover up any feeling of his mottled back, because he didn’t think he had it in him to move from out of her arms.

“I love you too Red. I’m sorry it took me so long to realize that my feelings weren’t a bad thing. I want to be with you.”

He tensed under her arms, and for a second she wondered if she had said something wrong, worrying that he would kick her out, that he wasn’t ready for anything like that-

He rolled over and grasped her face softly. He then leaned forward, and lightly kissed her.

She gave a delighted and surprised hum, and had to use everything in her to not deepen the kiss, out of fear of hurting his battered body. Even with such a chaste kiss, he was wonderful. Knowing exactly what to do, exactly how to hold her lips to his. In all the times she had found herself fantasizing about his lips, and all the various places they could go, she never imagined just how skilled they would be. Even at the 10% functionality they were at currently. 

He pulled back and gazed deep into her eyes. They never ceased to take his breath away.

She smiled and pecked a spotless place on his cheek, careful to avoid any growing bruises.

They settled into each other, her head on his chest. His hands gently rubbing her back and hair. All the while peppering her hair with kisses.

Dembe and Mr. Kaplan found them like that, smiles still on their sleeping faces, content and happy in each other's arms.


End file.
